Alpha
by subseeker
Summary: The dog was raging and all it took was to hook a finger behind those singing nerves and give it a tiny, oh so tiny tug to make them… to make Roman… snap. (Ambreigns / slash / one-shot)


*waves at all of you guiltily*

Helloooo… I know, it took me ages to write this one. Sowwy…

But: you voted and here we have my first Ambreigns. Hope you guys will like it :)

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Hands, pushing, grabbing, holding, squeezing too tight. Clothes being crumpled, torn. Fingers, clenching to fists. Fists… being thrown to hurt…

A dull thud. A groan…

A big fist collided with his jaw, sending him to the ground, but only a blink later hands grabbed him by his shirt, the fabric being ripped as he was hauled back up to his feet and he used the momentum to throw a punch of his own. The weird, cracking sound and the low, pained grunt, just as the fact that the hands let go of him told him that he'd had hit the bull's eye. Or rather Roman's nose. A grin stretched his lips, a twisted one, bordering on baring his teeth.

Staggering back a few steps, Dean kept his eyes on the other man who had his head bowed, while gingerly covering his nose with a hand. Blood trickled down Roman's chin, dripping in rich drops from it and it made Dean forget about his own aching jaw. The grin _was_ a baring of teeth now. Defiantly. Tauntingly.

They were both panting harshly and Dean couldn't help but notice how a certain excitement caused his heart to speed up and he was aware of how sick this was. It shouldn't be like this, goddammit. But it was.

A shudder ran down his spine, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

And then Roman looked up. Sharp grey eyes, locking with his own… cold, yet _burning_ in too long restraint anger. Roman... was about to explode. Dean could hear the singing of the other man's overstrained self-control. The dog was raging and all it took was to hook a finger behind those singing nerves and give it a tiny, oh so tiny tug to make them… to make Roman… snap. Rolling his head and loosening his shoulders, Dean ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

Let the games begin… or maybe the games had already begun, days, weeks, maybe even months ago…?

They had crossed the line of simply being a team, had become friends… and brothers in the end. Yeah, they were brothers… and all along there was a competition burning, one of which Seth wasn't part of. Seth was… Seth. He was the good soul and maybe a bit like the Swiss. The one who was the neutral zone in the team, good with everyone.

No, the competition burned between Dean and Roman and it was some kind of an alpha-male rivalry. Who was the leader? Who surrendered and followed?

In the beginning Roman had been the big, quiet guy whose job had been to be the muscles of the team, but over the time it had changed and suddenly the company decided to give him a push. And really, Roman had deserved that push, deserved it all… only that it left deep scratches in Dean's ego. He couldn't help it. It stung…

And suddenly it happened. When they stepped into the ring, it wasn't only one fight, but two. They didn't only fight their opponents, but each other, too… in a way… To that already simmering competition added the strain the storylines brought along. Cracks in the shield. Play it. Live it on the screen. Problem was, that it left stains on the real life. But only… only between Roman and Dean…

They were friends, brothers, had each others backs. He loved Roman. Everything was good… only in those moments, when the emotions were heating up, the testosterone was boiling and the ego was squaring its shoulders… then it felt like the air around them began to hum, sing, became thicker.

The thing was… there was more. That shadow lying beneath a layer of calmness in those grey eyes… every time Roman was angry…

It had become a little game for Dean, finding ways to lure… or rather push, pull, shake his big Samoan friend out of his shell, but this man had a self-control that went far beyond impressive. This man… was fascinating, had always been for Dean, from the first moment on. Calm and gentle, but then you saw it underneath, that part of him that could make him a menacing human wrecking-ball. But that part of Roman was a well-restraint one, but it was the very part that more than anything else had caught Dean's interest. The faint waves the big man wore in the ring were nothing but a faint taste of the real thing.

It was like an addiction… that finding new ways of annoying Roman to itch that interesting part of him, it was like poking a bad-tempered dog with a stick through the fence to see what will happen. And for Dean it was… like an experiment. Fun. He liked playing with the fire and he liked poking the dog, again and again. And it was also nothing more than showing who the alpha-male was.

Pulling the right strings at the right moments. _Letting go_ at the right moments. Being dominant without actually being obvious.

And all this had become a dangerous mixture that… Dean's nostrils flared as the excitement in him surged up, like every time he admitted it to himself… because, fuck, he had eyes, dammit. He could _see_. This dark side of Roman was… sexy. And a really angry Roman was the goddamn hottest thing Dean had laid his eyes on. Ever. And… fuck… he wanted to see Roman _submit_ to him.

Hell, he _wanted_ _Roman_…

This now, it had been supposed to be a training, nothing more, nothing less. Only Roman and him. They were alone in here, because Seth had told them to get things straight. The other guys were either at home already or busy at the gym and since not a single soul had showed up within the past thirty minutes, Dean guessed that Seth had told them to stay away.

It was good that they were alone… yet not.

His musing came to an abrupt stop as he realized that Roman's hand dropped as he ducked… and shot forward. The air was knocked out of Dean as 265 pounds of Samoan muscles crashed into him, pain exploding in his stomach as a broad shoulder collided with his middle. He couldn't even groan, because he couldn't _breathe_. The impact wiped him from his feet and massive weight crashed down on him, pinning him to the canvas.

Fingers closed around his wrists in a vice-grip and before he even had the chance to react, his hands were forced above his head and Roman shifted, held them down there with only one hand while his other hand came down to grab his chin. His head was forced around until their eyes met, while the broad frame came to lie flat on top of him, making it hard to draw some badly needed air. The black mane fell down like a veil, framing the Samoan's face… making it impossible to look anywhere else but him. The blood had begun to dry, but there was still a little blood trickling from the ruined nose. One red drop fell, staining Dean's cheek. With a breathless curse he tried to arch up and buck Roman off, but he only ended up with the other man lying between his legs… and a mirthless little chuckle creeping into his ear.

"What now, Dean?" Roman growled. "What's the next step in your little game, huh?"

The hand on his chin moved further down… closing around his neck and it caused a weird jolt to run through him and a warmth pooling between his legs.

"Take your hands off, bastard!" he wanted to hiss, but it was more choked out than anything else and it pissed him off.

Another chuckle. Low, dark. Amused now. And it pissed Dean even more off.

"Make me…"

The other man's face was so close… Dean's eyes locked with Roman's. The grey orbs had darkened, the grey more a silver now and the fire in them burned so _cold_ that once more Dean couldn't breathe. I have you, they said.

Fuck, no, you don't, Dean thought and because he couldn't get his hands free, he… bit, sinking teeth into Roman's lush bottom lip and rolled them over as the hands let go of him. A short struggle followed and the moment of surprise was enough for Dean pin the other man belly-down to the canvas, twisting a broad arm to Roman's back in a painful angle, while his other hand fisted into the black hair. An angry sound passed Roman's lips, the bottom lip bloody from his bite, already slightly swollen. A satisfied grin grew on Dean's face as he saw the marks of his teeth there and it grew as Roman wanted to push him off but stopped as the strain on his shoulder got too much.

The tank Roman wore showed more of the tanned skin than it covered and the thin work-out shorts… were practically nonexistent thin. Leaning in, Dean took a deep breath, watching the emotions play on the Samoan's face, from angry to surprised, to really, _really_ pissed and it fueled the warmth that still lingered between his legs, let it flare up to heat. There was the feeling of that muscular body beneath him, of that perfect ass pressing against his groin and the faint scent of Roman's aftershave and fresh sweat, even a tinge of blood… and something uniquely Roman and fuck, it all mingled to a fragrance that made Dean's cock grow hard.

Leaning close to the other man's ear, he breathed: "The next step, _Reigns_, is showing you who the boss is."

His tongue darted out, licking over the shell of Roman's ear and the sharp hiss of anger he received itched a snigger from his throat and then a quiet moan as Roman again tried to get him off, that nice ass rubbing against his already rock-hard dick and he couldn't help but buck against the body lying under him and again, hard, as he imagined how it would feel to be buried in that tight heat…

A tiny twitch on the other man's lips, something that might have been supposed to be a smile, was the only warning he got… before he felt the dark strands slip through his fingers and the back of Roman's head collided with his face. Pain exploded in his face, his vision blurred from tears. With a roar Roman reared up, sending Dean flying a few steps. His shoulder bumped against something and he realized too late that it was the bottom-rope. Reaching out blindly, his hand closed only around air and a blink later he collided with the ground, hitting his head hard.

For a long second there was only pain and heavy dizziness…

A yelp of more pain and surprise passed his lips as fingers twisted into his hair, painfully tugging at it to pull him up from the ground. His eyes snapped open, meeting with angry, cold orbs fleetingly, before a push sent him against the apron of the ring. With a spat _fucker_ he pushed away in an attempt to lunge at the other man and he was fucking torn between being really pissed and just letting go and get lost in that sick excitement that had long flooded every fiber of his body.

He could hear the sound of teeth clashing as his fist hit Roman's jaw. His second blow though… hit only air, as Roman sidestepped him, grabbed his arm and spun him around, sending him back against the apron. The next thing he knew was that he was lying bend over the edge of the ring with his face pressed against the canvas and a hand on the back of his neck holding him down in a painful grip and… Roman's big frame pressing against him. Something hard was poking against his backside…

Fuck…

"How about _I_ show _you_ who the boss is, Dean" Roman said just above a whisper, victory clearly lacing into the words.

"Get off me, asshole!" Dean growled as it sunk into his still muzzy mind what those words meant.

He felt the other man step back a bit, but the hand on his neck held only tighter as he began to struggle to get out of its hold, to get free somehow. He tried to rear up, tried to kick the man behind him. Futile. His hand shot up to the one holding on to his neck, clawing, nails digging into the other man's skin deep enough to leave bloody marks, but nothing happened.

His shorts were ripped down...

From the corner of his eye he watched as Roman spat in his hand and reached down. His eyes widened and again he increased his effort to get away.

"Fuck y…!" he yelled as he felt something big push against his entrance, but the words got stuck in his throat.

The sudden pain in his lower parts made him freeze, tore a breathless groan from him, as Roman shoved his dick into him in one mighty thrust. His eyes rolled back into his head. His knees buckled and he would have slumped to the ground if Roman's body hadn't kept him neatly pinned against the apron.

His mind dazed at the pounding in his head and the burning pain in his ass and distantly he heard Roman's deep, restraint breathing mingle into his own ragged, pained one. The other man stayed unmoving, buried to the hilt in Dean's quivering body, except for a broad hand that smoothed over his back in a ridiculously gentle and soothing way.

"I'll make… make you regret this… Reigns…" Dean forced out and his voice sounded dull to his own ears.

The hand on his back moved down again, grabbing his hip firmly.

"No, Dean, you won't," Roman replied huskily, pulling out of him almost completely and Dean's hand shot back in an attempt to keep the other man _away_ somehow, but it was of no avail.

The force of the thrust and the newly flaring pain made him grunt. Again. And again. Roman's hips slammed against his ass repeatedly, his cock pounding into Dean's tight, clutching heat. After what felt like an eternity, but might have been less than a minute, Dean felt his body surrender to the intrusion, felt the pain lessen and it was then that Roman shifted his stance behind him and angled his thrusts.

The moan that left his mouth as the hard flesh crashed into his prostate was whorishly. A dark little chuckle was all he got, before Roman doubled his efforts, driving into him hard and fast and mercilessly… hitting home every single time. His own hand stopped pushing the other man away, clawing at him instead to pull him back in every time Roman drew back and he shouldn't want that, being fucked by this man, but he couldn't help but moan and groan shamelessly loud at the ectricity which jolted throughout his body at every thrust. The intensity of this feeling had crashed any kind of resistance within a blink.

Soon the room was filled with the pornographic sound of skin slapping against skin as Roman's hips collided with Dean's ass in a violent rhythm and into it laced breathless gaps and their joined moans and Dean pushed back against the other man again and again as his mind hazed and pleasure surged through him and rode his body in strong waves, leaving him trembling and begging for more.

"Oh… fuck, yeah… ha-harder… faster…" he heard himself groan and a small voice in the back of his head screamed to fucking keep his mouth shut, but fuuuck… the rest of him wanted Roman to fuck his brains out.

The hold on his hip got tighter, reaching the point of being bruising but he fucking didn't care if there would be marks. His skin pricked and heat coiled up in his guts as Roman complied to his begging, going harder, faster, slamming into his prostate until the pleasure was almost agonizing. His hand let go of the one holding on to his neck, falling to the canvas, scratching, clawing at the rough fabric as the tension within him built up, getting stronger… as he felt the familiar tightening of his balls and he pushed back hard.

And suddenly Roman let go of his neck and with a breathless _no_ he wrapped his hand around the base of Dean's neglected, aching cock, blocking out his orgasm and Dean could only moan, while his body screamed.

"Beg me to let you come…" Roman growled, tightening his hold on Dean's cock to the point of being painful, but not too painful, while pulling out of his body almost completely, only to slam back into him with a vicious thrust that left Dean quivering under the force, made him mewl.

Roman's name was a desperate whimper on his lips as the whirling sensations in him became more and more unbearably with every passing second as the other man kept rolling his hips, agonizingly crashing into his sweet spot.

"Beg me, _bitch_!"

"Please… please, let me…" he moaned, swallowing thickly as the tension stole his breath.

"Good boy," Roman breathed, plunging into Dean's quivering body a few more times hard, his movements becoming erratic.

The hand on Dean's cock let go and the heat within him unfurled, exploded as he came hard, so hard that his vision blacked out for a moment. A guttural, drawn-out groan passed his lips, getting lost in Roman's roar as he followed. His whole body tightened, clenching around the hard flesh that was buried deep in him.

It was a strong arm around his middle that kept him from dropping to the floor as his knees gave out under him. For a long moment they stayed like this, joined, panting, silent. Distantly Dean felt Roman's cock twitch deep inside him and once again a hand, gently, soothingly smoothing over his back. Goosebumps flared all over his body, riding along with the shivers of his aftermath.

Eventually Roman pulled out of him, stepping back and the arm around Dean's middle vanished. With a grunt he slipped to the ground, leaning still panting, still shivering against the covering of the ring. When he looked up to the other man, Roman had already pulled his shorts back up and met his gaze with a slightly raised eyebrow and satisfaction written all over his face.

"Keep that ass tight for me, Dean." Roman's voice was dangerously low, rumbling and breathtakingly possessive as he began to walk off. "Because it belongs to me now..."

Roman stopped as he reached the corner of the ring, rolling his head, before gazing back over his shoulder. There was a sharp glint in those silver orbs and a dark smirk on the lush lips, both chasing a cold shiver down Dean's spine and causing a heat of excitement and anticipation in his southern regions. And then Roman left, leaving Dean sitting there naked in his own mess and with the sobering epiphany that his plan had a hundred percent perfectly backfired…

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**A word or two would be love, guys :3**


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